The Other Side Of Pleasure Series
by PanoramicPisces
Summary: Annabeth Chase has been eighteen for two months now, and she's ready. This will be her biggest challenge. Discarding logic, discarding safety. And who better ready for than to be ready for the murderous, evil Perseus Jackson? The boy - the man - who has shaken oceans and left beings bigger, older, supposedly stronger than himself begging to fall on his sword.
1. Perseus Jackson

A/N: I've never done drugs in all my sixteen years of living, but _man_, I must have been high to write this.

So this will probably be a super raunchy series of evil!Percy and evil!Annabeth because that's the only way I can possibly write them. I got the idea last night and finished it only moments ago. So enjoy!

Oh, and, sorry about the slightly ooc, docile Annabeth. I didn't know how I could do this without her being a little. . .submissive.

* * *

Perseus Jackson turns at the sound of his name - the look in his eyes tells Annabeth all she needs to know about the past and the ones that have dared call him that name. _Percy_. She can see just by his stare that he has grown accustomed to slicing the throats of those who have dared to address him as such.

His expression directed at Annabeth, however, is a mixture of surprise, of thrill.

How dare she?

How _fucking_ dare she?

"Wisegirl," he says, black locks - black, pitch black, the top of his head faded and vanished into the background of the dark room - "Do you like flirting with danger?"

_I'm here_, she thinks, _what does that tell you?_

Annabeth Chase has been eighteen for two months now, and she's ready. This will be her biggest challenge. Discarding logic, discarding safety. And who better ready for than to be ready for the murderous, evil Perseus Jackson? The boy - the man - who has shaken oceans and left beings bigger, older, supposedly stronger than himself begging to fall on his sword.

Annabeth could see that sword now - just at the edge of her vision - across the room. But she didn't dare take her eyes away from Perseus's, his sea-green irises operating like flashlights in the purposeful dimness of the bedroom.

"Say it now," Perseus says, approaching her, closing in on her. "Say my name."

Sooner than later, Annabeth feels her back come to one of the dark walls. Perseus crushing into her, leaving no space to run, to think.

She's the daughter of Athena, and she can't think.

"Go on," says Perseus, "Say my name, _bitch_."

Immediately after the spill of profanity, Perseus's leg comes up to brush against Annabeth's inner thigh. Annabeth shivers at the contact, at everything.

And then she says it.

"Perseus -"

"Perseus what?" Perseus growls, brushing his lips against Annabeth's earlobe. "You've got to say the whole thing, _babe_."

"Perseus Jackson. . ."

Annabeth feels Perseus's tongue graze her earlobe as he licks his lips.

"Mmmm. . . ." he moans. He brings his hands up, and they travel the outlines of Annabeth. "You know," he says, "you're not bad. . ."

Annabeth feels Perseus's hands go to her rear, and he squeezes, causing her to gasp.

"This is what you want, right?" Perseus says, and the lewdness of Annabeth's mind seems to be leaking into Perseus, giving him the information he needs to process the _whats_ and the _whys_ and the _wheres_. "That's why you came to me, that's why they all come."

Perseus's hands travel up Annabeth's skirt, his hips move, like a raunchy dance.

"They all want to know what's it like, what _I'm_ like."

This. _This_ was the only reason she had come. As Poseidon's grip over the oceans, and everything he had bargained with with his two other brothers begins to loosen - as it should, as it must, according to the myths, whether _Posedy_ likes it or not - the knowledge the god of the sea owns transfers itself to his most powerful offspring.

Perseus.

It was no contest. And if the other sons and daughters of Poseidon come to challenge him to his inheritance, Perseus will be more than willing to spill their blood and lick it from the steel of Riptide.

He's practically god of the seas already, Annabeth thinks in between pants and gasps as Perseus's hands travel and travel and ohhhh. . .

"Wet," Perseus says, sinking fingers in Annabeth's folds, massaging them.

Annabeth sinks nails into Perseus's shoulders, feeling herself collapse into the velvety pleasure.

"I like wet."

Annabeth's only reply to that are more moans, more grinding, _more more more_. . .

"Just to make one thing clear" Perseus whispers into her ear. "I don't make love. I don't do any of that I-wrote-you-365-letters-a-year Notebook shit. We do this, it'll be on my terms."

"I'm a virgin," Annabeth blurts out, like it'll help her case, like it'll soften Perseus's hard, sharp edges. "So. . ."

Perseus removes his place from Annabeth's neck and stares up at her. Those eyes again - piercing, almost all knowing. Staring at her until they reveal the rawest of meat, the most tender secrets Annabeth possesses.

"Be gentle." Annabeth tells him.

And to her surprise, he smiles; it's amazing how just a tiny little smile can make him seem so less evil, like a normal boy, like a mama's boy. Normal. The smile seems modest, real. It's wide and warming to Annabeth's nervous, hurried heart.

He sets his chin on her neck again, and whispers, "I don't care."

"C'mere," he says, and he pulls - yanks, the blond strands on her head aching from his hard-iron grip - and with one strong thrust, Annabeth plops onto the bed and nearly slides off of it.

_Damn velvet silk sheets_, she thinks. _It's like he prepared for it._

"On your back," Perseus demands.

Annabeth twists, scooting up to the pillows.

Perseus smirks. "You've got a nice butt, you know. Nice and round. Squeezable."

And Perseus crawls to her, both hands placed on the sides of her bed.

Annabeth reaches to touch him, to feel his skin - only to have her hands pinned in one swift move.

"I touch you," Perseus says, "You don't touch me until I tell you."

His terms.

Annabeth nods.

Perseus leans down, his lips meeting hers in a surprisingly gentle fashion. His hands caress her legs and snake up her skirt to pull her panties away from her hips.

"Lace," Perseus says, and he chuckles. "I hope you weren't trying to woo me from the beginning."

Yes, she had.

"Still wet?"

_Yes_. . .yes, she was.

Annabeth felt Perseus's fingers fill her again, and her eyes fluttered close. She could no longer find the strength to keep her head up, and she sinked into the velvet pillows.

"So wet," Perseus says, astonished. "I can't even - I have to -"

His fingers leave her, and Annabeth feels him sink down, to her legs. He pushes her skirt up, so her legs are free to open wide for him. She feels his head move, his hands massage her thighs, and then -

Annabeth's eyes pop open, she stifles a moan the best she can.

_Oh my gods. . ._

Perseus is lapping up the juices of her. As Annabeth looks up, she sees his entire mouth has now covered her, eating her, attempting to desire her from her lower regions.

"Perseus. . ." she moans, bucking.

His tongue swipes her, revealing every crevice where her juices may hide. His tongue is everywhere on her. In her, around her, teasing her. His tongue comes up to tickle her clit, swipe at it and swirle it around, accompanied by the moans that vibrate from his ministrations.

Annabeth's right hand is bunched in her hair, her left is groping at her breast, pinching a nipple of maximum pleasure. Her moans dance with the sounds of Perseus's tongue, the slurps, the vibrations, the glops. . .

Annabeth's moans mingle with the screams of his name, of the thoughts she thinks but cannot say.

_YespleasemoremoreohgodsPerseusyesmmmyesohhhyestherepleasemoremyclitmyclit-_

Or perhaps she is saying them, but she is too preoccupied with feeling to know, to care.

"Grip my hair," Perseus growls.

Annabeth's hands fly to his black locks. She pulls and grips for the leverage she needs as she rides out the extreme orgasm Perseus gives her. Perseus gives her no opportunity to leak before he's lapping up what comes through. Perseus crushes his mouth into her, leaving no space, devouring. . .

And then it's over, in a fit of squirms and exclamations that are meaningless and make no sense. Only to be replaced with the ghosts of pleasure, the rocking, back and forth, of oceans cooling, relaxing, coming to a harmonious end.

Perseus comes up, he looks satisfied with his work.

"I'm not sure you enjoyed that much," Perseus teases, his smirk nearly tugging his entire face. "What would you say? A five? Seven, at best?"

He chuckles while Annabeth struggles to regain something that can be called conscious.

Perseus slaps her leg. "Get up," he says. "Take all that stuff off, now. We've got more work to do."

Annabeth pushes hair from her face, finding the tickling sensation of hair more than annoying in her sensitive state.

Perseus comes to her, pushes her head back, and gives her the stare once more. "Get up and get undressed, or I might just get bored of you. Wisegirl."

She doesn't know how he knows her nickname. Annabeth raises from her embarrassing state. A nickname, against what would be safe, pops into her head. _Seaweed Brain_. Perhaps she'll work up the nerve to call him that one day, when he's not so bloodthirsty, and teething over his moods kill and don't kill - right now, that is. When he has found more a gray area for her to fill safe in.

Annabeth faces away from Perseus. Pulling the straps of her orange floral dress away from her shoulders and pushing the dress until it pools around her. She steps out of it. Annabeth spots her underwear, thrown across the room, more than useless.

She heard jangling behind her, and her insides contract.

_Oh gods,_ Annabeth thinks, _he's going to tie me up._

But when she turns around, Perseus is without chains - and without clothes.

The boy is a god already.

There is no misstep, no mistake on him. He is chiseled and muscled. His hair falls in his eyes, almost seeming wet - _permanently_ wet - and he is bronze. Annabeth feels another thrill pass through her.

He has to let her touch him soon.

He has scars - scars from battles won and hardly lost. Faded and white across his abdomen and his shoulder pads. They are the most morbid type of beauty.

"Want something?" Perseus says, smiling his more innocent smile now.

"Yeah," she says, and it is one of the first things she says to him, and it rings true. "I thought you were about to chain me up."

It looks like Perseus is about to say something else, but then he double takes. "Well, your mind definitely goes to bad places when I'm not there," he teases.

Annabeth can't help but blush. Perhaps she _is_ dirty-minded. What else would bring her here? In the clutches of Jackson?

Annabeth reaches up to remove her bra, and it falls from her shoulders also, allowing her breasts to fall free from restrain.

Perseus whistles. "Nice tits, there, Wisegirl. Bed. Now."

Annabeth doesn't need to be asked twice; she crawls back onto the bed, and Perseus follows. He plops beside her.

"On top. Now," he demands.

Red blossoms across Annabeth's face again.

"Oh, come on," Perseus says, "Just because no one's popped your little blond cherry doesn't mean you can't ride me. I just give you the head of your life and this makes you blush."

He had a point.

Annabeth positions herself in front and above Perseus. He grips her hips, ready.

"Come on, Wisegirl," he smirks. "Let's _make love_."

Annabeth hears his chuckles as her eyes close shut and she falls onto him.

The pain is sharp but she has had worse. Maybe it would've been easier, had Perseus not been so. . .endowed. Annabeth bit her lip, waiting for the pain to be released.

"You look constipated," Perseus says, positively giggling at her discomfort.

"Shut up," she growls.

Perseus bites his lip, mimicking her. And he says, in a mocking tone, "_Oh, my very first cock. Owie_."

Perseus lets his head sink back as he giggles to himself. And as the pain subsides, and something much nicer - ohhh - takes its place, Annabeth smiles.

She lifts herself, and then falls.

Annabeth applauds herself as she heard Perseus take in a sharp - sharp as knives slicing one another - breath.

"Oh _shit_," the redness in Perseus's lower lip is gone, he is biting down so hard. "Oh. . ."

Annabeth finds a nice rhythm, bouncing herself on Perseus. It feels like power, a little, sick feel of power when she knew she really had none. Perseus watched as her breasts rose and fell, and his nails poked the sides of her hips.

_Oh. . .yes. . ._

"That's right, Chase," Perseus says in between pants, "Making mommy smarty-pants proud. Oh - oh - shit - yes. . ."

Perseus closes his eyes, lolling his head around, feeling her.

Annabeth rolls and bounces, gyrates and nearly hops above Perseus, enjoying every moment of his thickness inside her. Her blond curls fall around her. Perseus has one eye open, now, noticing.

"Like a little slut princess," he says, and places hands behind his head.

The bed creaks, moans like it is a part of their sordid performance. Perseus raises, wrapping arms around Annabeth as she moves, completely lost, nowhere to be found in the ecstasy.

"Hands on me," he says.

Annabeth places her hands on shoulders, desperately looking for a place to grab -to _hold_ - before going over the edge. To stop herself from losing everything, to grasp some remaing pebble of sanity left.

"Is this what you wanted, Annabeth?" Perseus says, the sweat rolling off his neck, tickling down and down and down. "Is this what you imagined?"

"Yes," Annabeth says, out of breath. A bitch in heat. "It's - oh! - it's better - oh my gods - yes - _please_ -"

She feels herself tipping over, and then the fullness that is Perseus leaves her.

"What?" she says, outraged, hungry for what she has lost. "No! Put it back! Hey!"

Perseus laughs. "My terms, Wisegirl. I don't remember saying you could come before I do."

Annabeth glares, wishing her eyes could drive a whole into his skull and end his miserable existence and then have him die and then die some more and_ oh my gods she was so close._

Perseus places his cock in front of her, waving it as though it were a tasty offer.

"You let me come the first time."

"Well, that's not how it is now," Perseus says. "See? This is what happens when you decide to fuck a god: he either changes the rules to fit his own needs, or he has sex with a swan."

I hope Zeus didn't hear that one, Annabeth thinks, then grasps Perseus's cock.

"Don't be such a virgin with it -"

"I am a virgin -"

"You _were _a virgin," Perseus corrects her. "You're a big girl now, Anna, now you should be able to - oh shit!"

_At least some good came out of this,_ Annabeth thinks, swirling her tongue around the base of Perseus's cock.

She keeps her eyes locked on him as his head slams into the headboard of the bed, arching the lower half of his body forward. Annabeth sees his hands clench, tight until there is no blood left to be seen, and she takes in more of him.

"Wisegirl. . ." Perseus sounds impressed as Annabeth's ministrations continue.

Her left hand pumps him as her right searches for other areas to fondle. Finally, they find his balls and gently caress them.

This will make him pay, Annabeth thinks as she grazes her teeth ever so gently across Perseus's cock.

Perseus's leg twitches. "Oh, shit, Wisegirl. . ."

Just like before, she finds a rhythm for this, as well. Rocking back and forth, with each new thrust she gains more of Perseus into her mouth, finds new areas to tease.

Perseus's hands finds Annabeth's head, rocking into her.

"Yes - ohh - that's right - good girl. . ."

Annabeth grazes her mouth while moving her hand up and down his shaft, lubricated from the slick of her tongue.

"For a _virgin_," says Perseus, "You sure know - ohh - what you're doing. . ."

"I've seen some videos," Annabeth says breathlessly. She takes him in her mouth again, paying her own close attention to his swollen head.

"You're a porn addict, too, Wisegirl?" Perseus laughs and lets his head bang against the headboard. His laughs are a sick combination of actual laughter and choking. He moans, "You're the reason why no one thinks virgins are as innocent as they - ooh - seem. . ."

Annabeth ignores him, now completely focused on her task. She glides the surface of her teeth along Perseus's shaft, trailing it with her tongue. She can tell Perseus is close; no more banter, only his pants and his groans. His hips buck and his grip on her loosened ponytail are becoming increasingly more aggressive.

Then she feels the first drop of semen on the back of her tongue, and she tries to pull away.

"Don't think so, Wisegirl," Perseus drags her right back on his cock.

His semen shoots and streams into her mouth. Perseus roars as he unloads into her. She looks up to see his face pinched and strained, his teeth biting down on his lip so hard it draws droplets of blood.

Annabeth closes her eyes, drinking in his juice. She focuses on making the moment last, savoring.

And the Perseus leaves her mouth, relaxing himself with half his body on the headboard and the rest against the wall.

"_Virgin_," he spits, like the word is a lie tainting his mouth.

_Look at me, Perseus,_ Annabeth thinks hungrily. _Finish me off, please._

As if he senses her desperation, his eyes snapped to her. He jerks his head, "On your back."

She does as he commands, and waits.

Perseus is on top of her, placing himself inside. Annabeth has missed his thickness, and her moan is almost whining when Perseus sinks inside her, disappearing into her folds.

"Legs around me," Perseus commands - yet it is hardly as harsh as before; more needy, like he desires her warmth in and around himself.

Annabeth wraps her legs around him, and he pumps.

She doesn't know what is better: herself on top, uncontrolled, hungry, a true bitch in heat. Or him, completely in control and completely under his mercy.

"Yes - ohh - Wisegirl -" Perseus lets out meaningless exclamations of pleasure as he plunges farther - deeper - into her depths.

Annabeth screams, her being yanked and pulled and stretched and pounded. She rakes nails over Perseus's back, which only entices him to increase speed and aggression. She can't feel anything but him - there is nothing but him, but this.

He fucks like a god.

Then, he pulls out a second time.

"You got to be -"

Annabeth's hiss is cut off by the look on Perseus's face - starving and manic, his sea-green eyes.

"On your knees."

Annabeth's eyes widen and she scrambles to meet his demand for the umpteenth time. On her hands and knees, her legs shake and her mouth goes completely dry as he slams into her again. The only thing she tastes is him, the only thing to have exist is his scent and his cock and him, like his presence is so powerful it devours everything else in the universe.

"PerseusPerseusPerseusPerseus_Perseus_" Annabeth shouts with each powerful thrust.

He has hands grip steel tight over her hips for the leverage he needs. Perseus dives into her with the same passion and drive of which he kills, and the thought of that sends another wave of pleasure that inches Annabeth over the edge.

_So close. . .so close. . ._

She prays to every god to have him stay in her, to have him no longer tease her. Annabeth's head is in the pillows, losing the energy to scream. She feels each drop of dignity she has overrun by her passion - by her need.

When Annabeth comes, she can almost feel the oceans from every part of the world topple onto her back. She whispers Perseus's name, eyes half closed, as he pulls away from her. She feels him unload on her back, his hot seed almost feels like it is sizzling on her skin.

Annabeth is spent; she rolls over on her side,not noticing and not caring that Perseus's come smother under her.

Before she falls asleep, she sees Perseus hovering over her face. His face holds no distinguishable emotion, but his eyes do, as they always.

As she closes her eyes, letting the darkness engulf her into sleep, she realizes she has a new god to pray to.

* * *

Hours later, she awakes to see Perseus beside her. She is clothed and fresh.

_Did he bathe me?_

It is night, as she can see through the curtains. Perhaps it is always night in his world.

The smile he gives her is almost goofy. "Have fun last night?"

She blushes. "Did you?"

Perseus laughs, an airy, weightless sound upon the otherwise silent room. "I like you; you have some serious lady balls to come down here, challenge me to a sex duel -"

"Sex duel?"

Perseus laughs again, but otherwise ignores her repetition of him. "Go. Chiron will be worried about you."

"What?"

"You think I didn't know?" Perseus says, and this time he looks disbelieving. "I miss Camp-Half Blood, but after I. . .you know, went rogue, I was kicked out." Perseus shrugs. "Not that I cared at all, or miss anyone. I just miss the camp."

Annabeth doesn't know why it has taken her so long to notice, but he is wearing the orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. The image of Perseus wearing it, smiling down at her form, is surreal. Like her two worlds have bumped into one another on a street corner.

"Will I see you again?" she asks.

Perseus throws hands into the air. "How the fuck am I supposed to know? I move around a lot, Wisegirl, you can't just expect me to stay in one place for too long. I get bored. I only came around to the big apple New York 'cause I wanted to fuck Medusa -"

Annabeth's mouth fell open. "You did _not_ fuck Medusa."

"You calling me a liar?" Perseus says, frowning, then scoffs. "She wanted me. I like the thrill of it. So. . .whatever. Yes, _Wisegirl_ - as in, the girl that's supposed to know stuff, we'll see one another again."

"When?" Annabeth asks.

She can tell she's pushing it.

Perseus gives her that deadpan look again, clearly displeased. "I'll find you. Don't you go out looking for me. And don't you dare try to jump off a cliff, _Bella_."

Annabeth shivers. "Don't call me that."

Perseus barks a laugh. "Now go on,"

Annabeth waits for just a second, then raises.

"Oh, one more thing," Perseus calls. "Are you afraid of heights?"

She turns. "No. Athena. Spiders."

"Oh, that's right!" Perseus nods his head, lost in a memory. "I remember when I - oh, well, you'll probably never find them."

Annabeth's eyes go wide. "Find_ what?_"

Perseus waves her off.

"Why do you want to know if I'm afraid of heights?"

Perseus looks her over, his eyes lingering over her rear, then, he says, "No reason."

Annabeth, exasperated, turns away and leaves the son of the sea god's room.

This is going to be quite the relationship.


	2. Annabeth Chase

A/N: I hope you all didn't have to wait too long for a new edition. Evil!Annabeth, this time. Ya'll gonna have to be patient with me, as I have other things to do as well. But I'll keep updating if that's what you want! I love Evil!Percy and Evil!Annabeth and I wish to go even farther with the idea.

Enjoy!

* * *

The club is alive with bumping, grinding bodies. The bass and pump of the music acts as a heartbeat for it. Sweat trickles down Percy's neck. He licks his lips as he sees the naked back of a woman, her skin hot and her moans even more, as she grinds herself onto her male partner.

Percy rubs his sweaty hands on the his jeans - it's too hot in here.

Suddenly, he feels someone slap him over to shoulder - playfully so - and a body plops into the chair beside him. Why he, Percy, decided to venture out into the club scene alone, he'll never know.

But everything halts - the world ceases to turn - as Percy sees the woman beside him.

The most delicious blond he's ever seen. Percy struggles to keep his mouth from falling into his lap.

She wasn't generically blond, either; her eyes - wide and gray as an oncoming storm - stared at him with interest, bemusement. Her lips are full and pink and all Percy wants to do is knelt down and press his to them. He can see the little coating of sweat placed at her cleavage, cleavage that probably gave in to the most wonderful pair of breasts, Percy was sure of it.

The blond arches her eyebrows, expecting something.

Percy snaps out of it best he could. "Oh - um - drink you want?"

The blond tilts her head to the side, confused. "You mean if I want a drink?"

"Yeah - yeah, that's what I meant to say. . ."

_Smooth, Jackson._

To his surprise, the blond smiles and falls back in her chair. She was about his age; she looks it. But there was something about her that seems. . .superior about this girl.

"Yes," she says, "I totally want a drink."

"Ugh," Percy sighs, "I'm so glad you didn't say totes."

The blond raises her eyebrow once again.

"You know, totes. Like 'oh my god that is totes gonna happen on Teen Wolf' or 'I'm totes ready'. I can't stand it."

"You really are a bundle of thoughts, aren't you?" says the blond, she leans in - really leans in, to the point where Percy can feel her breath on the shell of his ear. He shivers. "I'm Annabeth, by the way."

"Percy," says Percy.

"That drink," she - Annabeth - reminds him.

"Oh," Percy says, perking up. "Right."

He orders her a margarita, and he watchs her as she drinks it down. Her tongue and lips linger on the little slice of lime they place on the glass. Annabeth's eyes never leave Percy's as she takes her time sucking and licking the citrus fruit.

This chick is so hot, I don't even know what to do with myself.

"Hey, Percy," she says. "Wanna go outside?"

_Hell yes!_

"Uh - uh -"

She doesn't let him give a coherent answer, only gets up and pulls Percy along with her. Percy is to entranced to do much else but allow himself to be pulled.

They don't even pay for the drink.

* * *

In the alleyway, Annabeth pushes him against the brick wall, places hands on either side of Percy's neck and slams lime-tasting lips onto his. He can hear the latest rap song dying and being revived as a techno one. Percy's hands find Annabeth's legs and trace them.

"Woah," he pulls away, "Isn't this - Isn't - I mean -"

"Gods," Annabeth says, rolling eyes. "You children of Poseidon really are dumb, aren't you?"

"Hey -"

"But it's okay," Annabeth says, and her smile is all-knowing and sickly. "Because you'll be out cold any second now."

"What?"

But then something occurs to Percy - she didn't say god.

Annabeth said gods.

_Gods_.

She was. . .she was. . .oh, when did the world learn how to dance?

Percy sees the alleyway spin and loop around him as he falls to the concrete floor. He can see Annabeth's perfect legs and her high, very high heels. And her voice, soft as a lullaby.

"Good kisser."

When Percy awakes, he is laying on a bed of bloodred sheets. Everything is dark, and yet he can see that he is contained through glass walls.

"You're cute when you drool, Seaweed Brain."

Percy snaps his head and there Annabeth is - lounging beside him like a sex kitten, her body curled up to his as though they are lovers.

She removes herself from him. Percy tries to jerk - tries to follow her, confront her, something - but he is only tugged back on the bed by, what he sees now, are chain.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Percy growls, narrowing his eyes. "Are you a demigod?"

Annabeth turns and shakes her head to someone in the distance. "So slow. But yes, son of Poseidon, I am a demigod. Though, I've been mistaken for a demon." Annabeth twirls. "Quite flattering, actually."

"Let me go," Percy commands. "Now."

"Well," Annabeth says, looking defeated. "I guess I'll have to now. I can never just not do something someone tells me to do - that was sarcasm, if you didn't know."

Annabeth giggles, and even her laughs so wicked; poison honey and prettily decorated knives.

"Luke!" she calls for someone, "I think it's time we get this show on the road. I want to test that theory you came up with."

"What?" someone answers, and out of the thick darkness comes a man - no, a boy, about his age - blond, but shades lighter than Annabeth, and a sharp scar running down his face.

"What theory?" Percy shakes his chains. "This is ridiculous, let me go!"

"My friend, Luke," Annabeth points to Luke, who is staring down Percy from behind the glass wall. "Thinks that you, darling, like to. . .watch."

Watch. Percy's mouth went dry and he swallowed nothing.

He knew. This guy - Luke - he knew. Percy didn't know how, but. . .

"And then I got on his lap and said, 'oh no, honey, that's impossible! Percy, son of Poseidon, saviour, hero, couldn't possibly be that lewd." Annabeth leans against the wall, suppressing another sickly laugh. "Or could you?"

"Let me go. . ." it sounded pathetic, and it was.

Annabeth smiles. "Tell you what, Seaweed Brain,"

She comes over to Percy again, and she undoes one of Percy's shackles.

"If you can resist touching yourself," Annabeth says, "Then I'll let you go."

Percy is speechless. His heart pounds in his chest, sounding louder in his ears. "And if I do? What happens to me, then?"

"Then we get to decide your punishment." Luke says, and first time since arriving, he smiles.

Percy lets his hand fall.

"I sure hope you fail," Annabeth says, and she smooths a bit of hair away from Percy's eyes. "I want to see more of you."

Percy wants to be disgusted, but he can't. He gets a. . .shiver from that. A small surge of pleasure from her sentence of two meanings.

Annabeth finds the door to the glass wall and closes it. Wrapping herself around Luke. She brings her lips to his, just as she had done with Percy. For some reason, everything about her kissing Luke is highlighted in Percy's mind. He can almost hear the friction, the smacking of their lips, their tongues wrestling and meeting. Annabeth tilts her head back in the kiss, and Luke's hand moves from her upper back to her rear, and he squeezes.

Percy feels himself twitch, his mouth still a desert.

No, he tells himself, and he forces himself to look away. Percy closes his eyes._ Your a demigod, Percy, a freaking powerful demigod, you can get yourself out of this._

So Percy tugs, and he pulls, with eyes still closed. He uses his one free hand to try and aide his other in escaping the clutches of the restrains. To no avail.

Where were they? Percy opens his eyes to search for something, anything. But there is nothing but darkness and glass walls and scarlet bed sheets and throbbing cock - no, no there's no throbbing cock, nope.

"Oh, Luke. . ."

Percy makes the mistake of looking up; Luke has his hand tucked in between Annabeth's thighs, his mouth on her neck. Annabeth is leaned over in his embrace, a face full of ecstasy.

Another twitch.

Oh _shit_. . .

This time, Percy can't turn himself away from the scene. Annabeth's mouth opens wide in a moan Percy cannot hear but can only imagine.

_Oh, Luke. . ._

Percy wants to reach up and cup Annabeth's face, crushing those lips to his again. He wants hands on the breasts that are threatening to slip from her leather dress.

Annabeth removes Luke's jacket, and Luke reaches to pull his shirt from his body and throws it somewhere it is not needed and Percy cannot see. He is as muscled as Percy is himself, only a shade lighter in skin tone. Looking at Her - _them _- makes Percy's cock stand up, begging for the friction that his free hand can provide.

_No, no. . ._Percy thinks,_ I have to. . .I can do this. _

But his resolve is once again tested as Annabeth sheds her dress from her body and Luke nearly tears her bra from her chest, causing her breasts bounce and be set free.

Percy hasn't noticed his hand inching toward the tent in his jeans. He has to give himself something. He rubs his thumb against a small part of his erection, and he shudders, biting his lip.

He hears a thump, and he sees Annabeth and Luke on the ground. Luke fiddles to remove his jeans - _he's aching, just like me. _

Soon enough, they are another decoration on the floor, as with Luke's boxer briefs.

Then Percy sees Luke's cock slide in between Annabeth's lip-glossed mouth.

Then it is all over.

Percy undoes his zipper, and slides his boxers away, allowing his cock to spring free. He strokes, and it almost causes him to faint.

Luke throws his head back as his cock slides in and out of Annabeth's mouth. Her eyes are closed, savoring the taste of his cock. Percy hears her moan softly, and he jerks even harder.

Luke thrusts softly into Annabeth's mouth. Percy can see the slip of tongue beneath Luke's length and Percy can't feel himself breathing.

Abruptly, Luke pulls out and positions himself before Annabeth's warmth. Percy clings his cock with a firm hand, ready to pump himself silly.

Luke slides into Annabeth. her head flies back in ecstasy. "Luke!"

Luke grunts in pleasure, and Annabeth's nails plunge into his back as he thrusts.

Annabeth turns her head, her eyes half-lidded, and she smiles at Percy. Even in her passion, she stills gives him a look that says I am victorious. Percy has to focus on something else. he jerks hard and faster and stronger as Luke flips over, so that Annabeth is above him, and she rides him, as rear bouncing and gyrating to the motion.

Percy hates himself, but he has never been this turned on. Ever.

The dips and curves and muscles in the couples body are just unbelievable. Luke and Annabeth are unbelievable. It is like watching Brad and Angelina fuck; they just look unreal. Like divine beings.

Then, suddenly, Annabeth leaves Luke and opens the door to Percy's cage. She picks the keys up, and unlocks his last shakle.

Percy pounces on her. He attaches his mouth to her nipple, and grips her breasts. Hard. Before, he wasn't able to discover how good she tasted when he was up against the wall of the club, or how soft her skin was, or how good she smelled.

Percy reaches down to feel her clit. Her whole section is spilling with the juices of her arousal, and she arches due to his touch.

"Percy!" she gasps.

Percy lets his lips come to hers, silencing her. Her tongue finds his easily.

Not close. . .not close enough, not by far.

But the little closeness they do have is cut off cruelly by Luke as he grabs Percy from behind and lifts his shirt over his head. Percy can comprehend very little of what Luke is about to do before he does it, and Luke kisses him.

Percy is surprised, but not displeased. Not in the least.

Luke licks his lips, and pushes him down. "Get it in," he tells Percy.

Percy directs his cock into Annabeth, and burries his mouth into her neck.

Too good. . .

"Ahhh - what would she do Percy - oh - ohho - if she saw you like this? Your mom -?" Annabeth says in between pants and thrusts. She wraps her hands and legs around Percy and he is certain that it can't get any better.

He feels Luke slap him and grab a handful of Percy's hair.

And then he feels Luke. . ._enter_.

It is painful, but with each thrust from Luke, it lessens and becomes something just as wonderful and amazing and delicous as the folds of Annabeth's pussy.

Percy fucks Annabeth, while Luke fucks Percy.

The air is alive with pants and sweat and moans and "mores" and "yes pleases" and it's too much too much too much.

"Percy - oh - yes. . ."

Percy feels his brain melt and his lips collide with Annabeth. He does things just to do them and he's no longer in control of what he does or thinks or feels.

Percy screams as his orgasm rips him apart, Luke comes along with him, and then Annabeth thrashes and her grip on his body with her legs and arms release.

It feels like the entire Atlantic Ocean is in Percy's brain as he turns to Annabeth. Her eyelashes battering at him already.

"You lost," she giggles.

Percy accepts this. "What am I going to have to do?"

Annabeth looks to Luke, who is smiling just as wickedly.

"You're going to have to give us a little time," Annabeth says, "We'll think of something."

The most horrible part is, Percy can't wait.

* * *

He returns home at two a.m. and his mom is in shambles.

Percy just hopes she can't smell the sex on him.

"Where the hell have you been, Percy? Hm?" she says, snapping angry fingers in his face.

"Nowhere special," he replies. "Just out."

That lie is going to have to hold for now.


	3. Bonnie And Clyde

A/N: I SUCK at writing sex, guys I am so so sorry. I'll get better, I promise it's just. . .ugh. The majority of my fanfiction for stuff I dig is mostly angsty and lonely so when I actually have to do something more substantial my brain is all like, "What?"

Plus, writing sex makes me blush.

Sorry, also, for this taking so long! I meant to get down to it last Sunday but school and other things got in the way. Hope you like my big dramatic scene with Perseus and Annabeth, it was fun to write and, huh, if Percy was evil he'd sooo think that.

Enjoy!

* * *

Annabeth doesn't see Perseus for two more weeks.

She does all she can to thinking of him; she spends her time rock-climbing, dodging fishy - fishy, _Perseus _- looking pieces of rock to climb up on. She lends Chiron a hand around camp, fixing things gone wrong and making better things that have been going really great.

But still, she's lonely.

She catches herself wondering where he is, where he could be and what he's doing. She wants to be where he is, wherever that may be.

On the last night of her lonely two weeks, she goes to sit by the lake. The stars blink and light up an otherwise black sky.

She sees her reflection in the water, wobbly and distorted, but still hers. She dips a finger in the water, twirling it around, then she lets her whole hand sink into the cold liquid.

And something _grabs _her.

She pulls back and stands, ready to unsheath her knife, if need be.

"Show yourself," Annabeth growls, taking a stance.

It could just be a nymph, or something else equally annoying.

But it's not; two hands hold onto the dock and out comes a boy, his black hair flips back and droplets of water slip down his face and neck and stomach, down his abdomen and. . .

Perseus.

"Long time, no see, Wise Girl," he says, smirking. He wrists himself on the dock, naked - _naked _- and waits for her response.

She wants to smile, but that would show too much weakness. She's happy to see him (naked!) but she wants to be cool, and she unsheaths her knife.

"Whoa," Perseus says, clearly impressed by her bloodthirst.

"Get back in the water," Annabeth says. "Leave. How did you even -"

"Get passed the barriers?" Perseus throws his hands up, reminscent of their last conversation; no one can make Annabeth feel so non-Athena's daughter-ish than Perseus Jackson. "Come on, Wise Girl, can't you see I'm special? Can't you see I'm not just some multi-colored demon? But I'm not one of you. . ."

"Yeah, okay, I get it," Annabeth says, pressing her knife to Perseus's neck. "But you're still going to leave."

"Ooooh, I'm so scared,"

Before Annabeth knows what is happening, Perseus's on his feet. He swats her hand away and grabs her neck. He uses his other hand to grip her wrist - tight, even tighter, until she is forced to let go of her knife and she hears it clank to the floor.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to hit a girl?" Annabeth growls.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to fuck evil demigods?" Perseus says, "Oh, yeah, that's right. I guess she doesn't talk to you, does she? She's kind of. . .well, _uninterested _in her kids. They all are."

"Shut up," Annabeth spats, she forces her leg up to knead him between the land of good and evil, and Perseus's grip on her loosens.

Perseus lets go of her entirely with a grunt. Annabeth can see, now, that he is wearing a black chain around his neck. It swings from side to side, along with other things on Perseus's body.

"Bitch." Perseus says.

Annabeth picks up her knife and kicks Perseus down. She stradles him and presses her knife into his neck.

He licks his lips. "I like this position."

Annabeth feels him buck under her, and she stumbles.

"Mmm," Perseus purrs.

Annabeth can't stop the blush overtaking her cheeks and neck. He is so hot, with his elbows propping himself up, his smirk, his naked wetness and oh gods she can feel him even through her jeans.

"Admit it," he says, bucking up again. "You like me, Annabeth. You want to be my _girlfriend_."

He says it with such mockery, and Annabeth loses most of her grip on her knife as the third buck comes. Perseus reaches for her arm and pulls it away, and along with it, her knife. He grinds on her, moving his hips in a rhythm above her.

She doesn't want to enjoy it, she doesn't want to enjoy him or anything about him. She wants to be normal and despise him and fear him and want to kill him so he can't kill anyone else.

But she doesn't. She just won't.

His hair plops, wet and dripping, all around his face. His eyes never leaves hers, drinking in every feature that twists and flutters in the pleasure that her body feels.

"Say it," he commands. And he stops grinding - _he bounces, _and Annabeth bounces along with him. She can feel him harden and brushing up against her crotch area. "_Sayyyy itttttt. . ._"

Annabeth can feel his hands snake up from the bottom of her orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, his fingers hovering over the skin of her back, tugging the straps of her bra.

He reaches up to her, and his breathe is hot and tickles the shell of her ear when he says, "The truth will set you free. . ."

Fuck him. Fuck him to _hell. _

She doesn't know how she does it, how she brings up the amount of control, but she gets off him, picks up her knife, and wobbly, she says, "Leave me alone. Go back to your. . .whatever, just never look for me again."

She turns on her heel with her dignity in her pocket, walking away from the dock and from Perseus, looking stunned and even more thirsty for her than before.

* * *

It is a whole other week before she sees him again. Matthew is the first person to notice something's wrong. Something's terribly, terribly wrong with Annabeth Chase.

"Hey," he says as the Athena cabin gets ready for lights out. "You okay?"

"Hm?" Annabeth says, looking up. Her eyes must look huge and even more stormy than usual and off. Terribly, terribly off. "Oh, nothing. Just. . .stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Matthew presses, coming closer. He clearly examines Annabeth's face, watching intently for any sign of. . .offery. "Boy stuff? Girl stuff? Camp stuff? Sp - Spider stuff?"

Annabeth shivers. "No, no, nothing like that, it's just. . .home. Forget it, okay? I'll be fine by tomorrow."

"Okaaayy," Matthew says, getting in his own bed and shutting off the lights. "But if you're not better by tomorrow, I'm going to start hounding you again."

Annabeth is happy it's over, for now. She gets in her own bed, and tries not to think about Perseus and his wet body.

Naked _wet _body.

_Nakedbodynakedbodynakedbodynakedbody_

_Wetbodywetbodywetbodywetbody. _

_Wet but also naked. NAKED BUT ALSO WET - _

Forget it. She can't sleep.

Annabeth whams her pillow with her balled-up fist and turns to the wall. Matthew and all the others are shamelessly snoring by now, and the worst possible part of Annabeth's body is throbbing from her thoughts.

She lies there, eyes closed, thinking of space and the cosmos and smart stuff until sleep finally comes to claim her.

Annabeth wakes up in the middle of the night. She's not in bed.

There are lights far ahead - she's dreamed so intently about space she's a part of it - blinking off and on, off and on, in her vision. Tall buildings with squares of lights, the sounds of cars honking and police sirens and dogs barking and every possible sound that would signify a civilized city is sounding right now in her ears.

She's looking at New York City.

"Do you see them out there?"

Annabeth gasps and raises, and there's Perseus: beside her, sword in his lap. His eyes glued to the scene outside the huge window. The bed she is on his wedged beside the window in the dark room.

Why is it that, whenever she sees him, they are in darkness?

"I thought I told you to leave me alone - where am I?"

Perseus doesn't answer her. "Look," he says quietly.

Annabeth does so, watching the lights and listening to the noises and taking in the beating, constantly moving city.

"I fucking hate it here," Perseus says. "They're always walking their fucking dogs and yelling and going to cafes and taking their fucking fuckheaded kids to school. I hate every single bit of this place."

"Then why the hell are you even here?" Annabeth says, fed up. But she's entranced, as well, as is Perseus; he is transfixed by this place, the place he claims to hate.

Perseus looks at her for the first time since she's awaken, he looks blank. "You know, you're really not living up to the whole daughter of Athena thing; you're supposed to know things. I'm here for _you._"

Annabeth's heart pumps in her ears. For _her? _

"When you came to me three weeks ago, I thought, 'What the holy fuck is this Shirley Temple broad doing here?' But then you were. . .so. . .different. I don't know, Wise Girl, you're supposed to know."

Perseus leans in. "Tell me why I want you so bad. Tell me what you are."

Annabeth looks at him. Really looks. His eyes are like flashlights against the darkness of the room, sending off colors of sea green into her own.

She takes a breath, "You like me because I don't try to change you."

"I want you to come with me," Perseus says. "I want you to come with me and let me take you fucking everywhere. I want us to be a team."

"But what about -"

"What the fuck about Camp Half-Blood?" Perseus suddenly growls. He pounces off the bed and begins to pace.

"You want to know something about that place?" Perseus rounds on her, spitting venom. "They try to control you, they try to make you think that if you get all your fucking _stickers _and all the damn _beads _for your necklace you can your mommy or daddy will show up and bring you presents and take you up to Olympus, well, you know what? Fuck _that. _Fuck that place. Fuck the fucking gods. Who cares? That place just raises you to be used as a tool for them, and then if you get tired of being a fucking tool and speak up for your goddamn self they drop you or kill you or turn you into a plant. Anything to get you from speaking the fucking _truth_ and putting them in their _place_."

Annabeth sits there, unable to speak. What was this _power _that he had? Annabeth could. . .could feel the heat from his words burn her, boil the acids in her stomach. She feels sick.

Perseus narrows his eyes at her. "Do they talk about me there?"

"What?" Annabeth croaks, blinking furiously.

"Me." Perseus says, coming closer. "Do they talk about how Zeus fucking blamed me for him losing his fucking lightning bolt? Or about me saving Artemis from Atlas? Or all those gazillion quests I went on to fucking save their asses? Or how about Luke Castellan, do you even know how he got that goddamn scar on his face?"

"I - Perseus -"

"No. No, of course you don't know," Perseus says, practically seething. "You don't know Luke, either. They wouldn't talk about me. I'm Perseus Jackson, the one who went bad. Well, you know what? I dont blame Luke for leaving - they drove him _crazy._ What kind of gods need the help of eleven-year old boys? What the fuck is that about?"

"Perseus, calm down!"

"Come with me, then!" Perseus shouts. "Don't let them fucking do it to you, too, Annabeth, you're fucking better than that."

Annabeth pounces off the bed, just as Perseus had done moments ago, and she crashes her lips to him.

Perseus reacts immediately, meeting her lips with as much vigor as she. They fall back into the sheets, Annabeth removes Perseus's black shirt, and he rips her orange pajamas away from her body. She wraps herself around him with a purr.

"Do you know how long I've thought the same things?" she whispers, her hands exploring his chest. "I just never had the guts to say them aloud. . ."

Perseus chuckles, pulling her bra away and flinging it somewhere else. "And here I thought you were brave?"

Perseus then picks her up, his hands sectioned at her thighs, and places her down on the bed.

"Oh gods," Annabeth says, her mind foggy. "What if someone sees us?"

Perseus smiles, as though this is a tantalizing thought. "Then they'll think, 'Hell, why can't I get some of that?'"

"That is so gross."

"No it's not, in fact. . ." Perseus says, dipping his head into the crook of Annabeth's neck, and placing slow, lingering kiss on her skin. "I might have to keep that in mind."

Perseus slides down, tracing the sides of Annabeth's stomach, the sides of her breasts. His nails breaching just over the space of her thighs, she can feel his nails ticking the small hairs on her skin, and she shivers.

Then she feels the tip of his tongue, barley touching her clit, and she gasps.

Perseus looks up, very happy with himself, only to move on her again. His tongue is expert, the kind of expert that lets you know he's done this thousands of times before. Annabeth can only writhe and whimper under his ministrations.

Perseus laps and sucks, slides and pokes, dives and explores even more depths with each stroke of his tongue. Annabeth stretches her legs out as she moans, letting her foot rest of the edge of Perseus's shoulder.

His hands slide up and down the sides of her thighs, pressing into them, massaging them to add to the sensitivity of his main task. He sucks at her clit with wild abandon and -

Annabeth gasps. His teeth were, ever so gently, nibbling - _nibbling _- her.

_No. . .no. . .he was _not _allowed to do that. _

Annabeth bites her lip, bites it until it nearly bleeds, and she wishes she hadn't made that decision; the sharp pain only adds to the pleasure, and Annabeth's hips arch.

She can feel Perseus laughing at her predicament, and he gives a long lap at her warmth that causes her to twitch.

"Do you want me to stop?"

The question is absurd and made to make her angry and flushered, and it does. He knows that she doesn't. Annabeth lies there, unable to think and not particular keen on speaking -

Annabeth is shocked again, and nearly screams when she feels two. . .figures now inside her.

"Well," the tone of Perseus's voice is dangerously low and dangerously sexy as he thrusts his fingers inside her again. "_Dooooo youuuuu _-"

"Shut up!" Annabeth says, and wishes it came out as a threatening hiss, but the syllables only manage to be desparate and lewd.

Perseus smirks at her and continues to work. His fingers slide slow - too slow, agonizingly slow - in and out, _in and out_, as his tongue twists and swerves on her clit like Satan's serpent.

She feels that rush again, the same that she felt weeks ago, when they had first done this. That feel of a coming wave. Annabeth brings her hands up to her breasts and squeezes herself, submissive to the pleasures and allowing herslelf to help it along. She wants to. . .she really, really wants to. . .

Perseus curls his arms around her mid section to make it impossible for her to lift herself up in an arch. And Annabeth wiggles and fights as her orgasm comes to tear her apart.

Perseus continues to nibble and suck until she is settled, allowing her to ride out every last vibration of her climax. And then he releases her.

"Does this mean you'll come with me?" Perseus asks, teasingly slaps Annabeth's leg.

Annabeth doesn't know how to answer, she blinks furiously and turns to the window.

"Come ooooonnn," Perseus presses on, scooting close to her. "With your brains and hotness, and my blade and charisma, we'll be unstoppable!"

Annabeth's lips curve up, she tries to fight it but. . .it's Perseus. And he is as sexy and evil as he is ridiculous.

"We'll be just like Bonnie and Clyde," Perseus says, kissing her neck and, because she's a mess of previous orgasm and hair and sweat, some of her blond locks. "The real Bonnie and Clyde, not that dumbass Lifetime version -"

Annabeth bursts out in laughter. "Perseus, if. . .if you hate it so much, why do you miss it?"

Perseus seemed to know exactly what she meant by that. "I hate the camp, the dumbass activities and them, not the area. I could think of a thousand better uses than to use it the way they do; a farm for all of you."

A farm.

He forces her to turn over and puts two fingers up - thankfully, not the ones that had been. . .well, that's just wrong. "Two weeks, two weeks with me. That's all. If you don't like it. . .well, I'll tie you up in my trunk and force you to enjoy it."

Annabeth knows it's only half a joke.


	4. Devil In Disguise

A/N: Wow, this is a steamy one. Forever apologies that this chapter took so long! School and other writing projects have made me want to strangle myself. I promise the next will come sooner than this! Enjoy!

* * *

"No."

"But -"

"No."

"Come on -"

"NoooooOOOOOoooo."

Annabeth slams a fist into the brick of the wall. "Just once. Just once let me meet her."

"Why?" Percy argues, narrowing his eyes with suspicion. "Why would you, Annabeth Chase, danger to all, want to me meet my mother?"

Annabeth looks offended, and feigns hurt as she says, "Because I want to be closer to you Perc-Perc, my precious Seaweed Brain."

And then she cracks into a fit of giggles. Percy's unmoved.

"No, no, but seriously. . ." Annabeth says, catching breath. "Just once, a little girly chat over tea, and then I'll never ask again."

Percy narrows his eyes at the smile Annabeth gives him. Her smile has. . .schemes in it. As though her mind has unveiled before her blueprints of disaster.

Percy feels like he'll regret this forever, like it will be his new Achilles Heel, but as a memory instead of the small of his back (the place, of which, Annabeth _loves_ to tease and tickle, having the power to send him over the edge or destroy him. Percy doesn't know how she found out about it; girls are _always_ finding out stuff).

It would scare him less if Annabeth was the daughter of someone less scary, but Athena.

GODDESS OF STRATEGY. FUCK. WHAT HAD HE DONE?

* * *

So that's how it began, Percy having come home from school (a school he, thank the gods, hadn't been chased out of by some monster in human skin. _Yet_.) to nerves and a fast-speeding heart, waiting for her.

For the saucy blond devil he was. . .dating? Having "relations" with? What was he supposed to call Annabeth? She wasn't the romantic-walk-on-the-beach type, but she was more to him than just. . ._that_. Of course, she would laugh right in his face at his growing sentiments, but Percy couldn't help it. He likes her.

Really, _really_ likes her.

But she was also driving up the wall, like now.

"Hey mom," he says, kissing Sally Jackson on the forehead. "You haven't seen anyone have you?"

His mom watches him dart back and forth, looking beyond hallways and into doors like a maniac before saying, "Um, no, honey. Just me, myself, and I. Why would -"

"Oh you know," Percy says, head still darting in cabinets (like she'd be in there!) and jars of pickles. Waiting for the blond devil to strike.

"Percy, honey," Sally says, saving the jar of pickles and placing it into the fridge. "Is everything okay?"

Oh no.

Percy feels the suspicion melt into guilt; nothing good every came out of his mom saying those three words. _Is everything okay?_ translated into _Do we need to find you another school?_ and his anxiety seemed to go into his mom, like in sci-fi movies where something slick and disgusting worms its way into your brain, and now she's anxious as well.

Percy calms himself. "No, mom, just. . .stuff."

He really had to take a chill-pill; Annabeth wouldn't hurt them. He knows that.

Didn't he?

. . .Well, didn't he?

Annabeth is dangerous, and not above threatening someone's life for a bag of potato chips ("But they're crisp and I'm hungry!") or sending someone to the hospital for inappropriate touching of her butt (okay, _maybe_ she was in her right there), and she wears her power like a second coating of skin, and Percy kind of likes that, even though it can go too far.

But, she wouldn't get a kick out of hurting Sally Jackson, would she? WHO would want to hurt Sally Jackson? She's Sally Jackson. Amen.

"Oh, wait, Percy," Sally says, ducking into one of the kitchen drawers (No, DON'T! That's a perfect place for a blond demon to hide, why didn't he look in there?) and pulls out a little white card with a number. "Someone did call, a lovely girl."

Then the gears - Percy can see them, he can see the gears - moving in his mom's head, and she looks up at him, and smirks (no, no, moms _don't_ smirk, no!). "Percy. . .are you having girl trouble?"

"What, no -"

Sally smacks his arm, but, of course, it doesn't hurt. Though, Percy feels like if he weren't made of demigod stuff, it might have . ."What the hell, Percy? You can't just let girls call the house and then not invite them over! What kind of tease did I raise?"

. . ._What_? Okay, none of this makes sense to Percy. His mom cusses at him (Sally Jackson, THE Sally Jackson!) and calls him a tease, which, he hopes she doesn't say twice -

"Tease Percy Jackson," Sally says, shaking her head.

. . .all aboard the Ew train to Ewville, he's missing his appointment with the Ew Prime Minister at Ew Square.

"You're calling her and inviting her to dinner," Sally says firmly, holding the card in his face. "Here. Tomorrow. Eight o' clock, you got that, mister?"

_. . .oh no._

"But mom -"

Sally turns to him, and gives him. . .the eyes. The Sally Jackson Eyes no monster, god, spirit, or crooked politician can match up to, and Percy shivers.

"Okay - okay, mom, I'll - anything you say," Percy says, taking the card with shaking hands.

"That's my boy," Sally says, kissing him on the cheek and returning to the living room to watch mom shows.

Percy stands there, in the kitchen, and begins to feel that, if it were Annabeth's wish, she could have the whole world surrender to her.

Maybe it already has.

And the plot thickens.

* * *

Saturday night. Eight o' clock. Percy and Sally's apartment. The doorbell rings.

Illuminati is real.

"Oh, there she is!" Sally squeals, like this is a happy occasion, which it _sooo_ isn't. "Go answer it, I'll get the food."

Percy does, opening the door, and seeing Annabeth there.

Maybe in a different realm of reality of space and time, she'd be able to play it off as a good eighteen year old girl. Annabeth is wearing a cute little, Miranda Cosgrove-looking sun dress the color of perfect summer skies, her hair is perfectly made up and curls come down her back in blond twirls, and pretty beige sandals that show off pretty little toes and _everything's so pretty._

She twirls in her ensemble. "Like it?"

Percy narrows his eyes. "You look like an angel, walk like an angel, talk like an angel, but I got wise. You're the devil in disguise."

"Really, Percy?" Annabeth says, gawking. "Elvis?"

Percy shrugs.

"Percy!" Sally shouts from the kitchen, "I haven't heard the door close, are you leaving that girl all out in the cold?"

_It's seventy degrees,_ Percy wants to shout back, but he doesn't think he can withstand any more of the Sally eyes, so Percy scoots away from the door to let Annabeth through.

_What are you up to, Chase? What's your gig?_

Gig? Elvis song quotes? Great, He's turned seventy along with the weather.

"Oh, how beautiful!" Sally says, setting down the blue food. "Annabeth?"

"The one and only,"Annabeth says, flashing a smile that probably once belonged to Shirley Temple.

Annabeth looks down at the blue food, Sally notices and blushes. "I - I hope you don't mind, it's kind of a family tradition, blue food."

"Not at all," Annabeth sits. "I've never had blue food before, I'm adventurous!"

Annabeth gives a lingering look to Percy, and now he's the one to blush.

Her look says_: I'm adventurous, as you should know_. . .

She pulls a chair open for Percy and pats the seat.

_Come and sit and meet your doom._

There is nothing that Percy to do, except sit, and he does.

* * *

9:00. Nothing so far. Annabeth and Sally are like long-time college mates; there is literally nothing that they can't discuss.

"And a lot of people think the burial shouldn't have been disturbed," Annabeth says, cutting some of her blue ham in a rather lady-like manner. "I mean, I think they're right. Wouldn't want to open a Pandora's Box and accidentally end the world just 'cause you're curious, right? But, hey, I can't necessarily blame them. A girl preserved for how many hundreds of years?"

"Wow," Sally says, amazed, hands folded to support her chin. "Percy is so lucky to have someone so insightful in his life. I mean, there's me, but I can't ever get him to go anywhere!"

"Oh, well, you just got to know how to persuade him," Annabeth says, and smiles in Percy's direction.

He glares. _Why don't you two just date?_

. . .Oh, he better not be late for his Ew train.

"So, Annabeth wants to be an architect," Percy says through gritted teeth, though it could easily be mistaken for a mouthful of food. "An arch-i-tect. Isn't that great mom?"

"Oh! Really?" Sally sounds almost out of breath.

"Oh yeah," Annabeth says, blushing. "I get a lot of inspiration from Greek architecture."

Sally looks to Percy. "Is that so? Did Percy introduce you? Was that how you two met? Percy's. . .really into Greek stuff."

_Good cover, mom. I'm reaaaallllyyy into Greek stuff. Yep, that's how I'd describe it._

"Haha, no we. . .met under different means."

_Yeah, how about that._

"I am stuffed," Sally says, throwing her napkin down on her empty plate. "Are you done, Annabeth? I'm going to clean my dish."

"I couldn't another bite," Annabeth says, handing her plate to the older woman. "Everything was delicious."

Sally smiled, and with two plates, left for the kitchen.

Annabeth and Percy were left alone.

"Okay, what's up?" Percy says, leaning over. "You've met her, you guys have giggled over the idea of bodies buried for hundreds of years, what else do you -"

Percy's rant was cut short a feeling of fingers. Sensuous and slow was their travel up and down his denim thigh.

_Oh. . ._

"Cool it down," Annabeth says, her voice now pitches low and soft in his ear, her breath hot and tickling. "I wanted to meet your mom and I'm doing it. Don't make it more than it is, okay?"

Whatever she said. Percy's mind has already left that lane and is focused on Annabeth's adventurous - so, _so_ adventurous - hand. Switching from thigh to thigh, grazing ever so softly in their journey against another area.

Percy blinks furiously. "Oh, uh. . ."

Annabeth nibs at Percy's earlobe, and she takes his hand, and guides it to her own thigh, and then under her dress, and then -

She's not wearing underwear.

Oh.

Oh.

_Oh_.

"Take it out," Annabeth whispers.

_It_ has responded to all of this play and is now making a standing ovation in Percy's jeans. He licks his lips and. . .does as she says.

Annabeth grips his length from under the table, just as Sally walks in.

"Annabeth, Percy, I didn't know if you wanted another drink. . ."

"That's fine," Annabeth says, taking her refreshment of sprite-in-a-glass and takes a sip while she pumps Percy's length.

Percy squirms slightly. The way Annabeth's nails gently graze over his cock is teasing and enticing in all of the academically correct ways.

"Percy, take a drink" Sally says, taking a sip herself. "Annabeth's just flattering me, the ham was actually quite dry."

"No it wasn't!" Annabeth says as she begins to pay some attention to Percy's testicles,

He clenches his napkin, wishing more than he has ever wished for anything that his mother would somehow disappear so he could take Annabeth on the table, sprite be damned, but he can't.

Percy smiles, and he's sure it looks like he's in the greatest pain of his life, but he tries. "Did Annabeth tell you about her Rome?"

Sally glares at Annabeth now. "You've been to? - it's official, I hate you."

Annabeth giggles, and grips tighter on Percy's cock, pumping him faster.

He almost kicks his mother under the table.

"It was nothing, really. My father took me and. . ."

Wait, Annabeth has _parents?_ Like, besides Athena?

She's never mentioned that to him, and at that moment, the idea seems almost surreal. Annabeth is. . .well, Annabeth. It's like hearing the Joker has a mom who chastises him on a daily basis, Wolverine.

_Your father didn't give you those scars, liar liar pants on fire!_

Percy thinks about this and then -

"Oh, do you have any room at all for dessert?" Sally says, "I completely forgot I have a wonderful pound cake in the fridge, it would mean the world, Anna."

_Anna, oh no._

"Of course!"

Sally smiles, scoots out from her chair and leaves for the kitchen again.

Percy gains the strength to move Annabeth's hand away and says, "Okay, Annabeth, enough -"

_. . .Oh no._

Annabeth doesn't listen to a word Percy says, and takes this opportunity to sneak under the table and -

_Oh no._

Percy's length slides all the way into Annabeth's slick mouth just as Sally returns to the table.

"What?" Sally says, frowning, setting down the pound cake.

"She had to leave for the bathroom!" Percy says, jumping.

"Are you okay, Percy?" Sally says, touching his forehead.

Percy tries to resist all the goofy expressions he's probably making but Annabeth's tongue is now paying a surplus of its time teasing his tip and it's becoming very hard to think of anything right now.

"Yeah, I'm just. . .a little tired."

"Annabeth is a joy," Sally says, "Why don't you bring her around more often?"

_Because of this! Because of this EXACT reason!_

Percy's length may have been a delicious lollipop to her by now. Percy feels her tongue taking its time, lingering and bathing it in saliva. Percy clenches up.

_Mom, I love you but go away please. . ._

"Ugh, okay, this sprite is just awful." Sally says, scooting away from the table and taking her glass with her. "You want me to wash -"

"Yes!" Percy says, jumping away as Annabeth massages Percy's thighs. Witch. "Yes, yes, please take your time."

Sally frowns in confusion, but does as he says and disappears into the kitchen again.

Annabeth lets go of Percy, and he flinches away to zip up his jeans.

Percy watches Annabeth, eyeing him like he was dinner all along, her eyes wide and stormy and wanting.

Annabeth takes his wrist and drags him upstairs, she guides him to the bathroom. She closes the door with surprising gentleness and crashes her lips with Percy's.

Percy responds immediately, ignoring where her lips had just been seconds ago. Annabeth moans into the kiss, melting into Percy's arms like butter. Her legs wrap around his waist, and she undoes the strap of her innocent little dress to reveal perfect breasts, ready for his hands.

Percy breaks the kiss to marvel at Annabeth's chest. God, these were a good idea. He dives in to suck a nipple, pushing harder into Annabeth, which makes Annabeth push harder into the door. The wood creaks, Annabeth moans, and moans.

"Percy. . .yes," Annabeth says breathlessly, lolling her head to the side. "Percy. . .oh my gods, I -"

"Percy!" comes Sally's voice, probably coming up the stairs.

Mmm. . ._coming._

Annabeth's legs clench tighter against Percy's sides. _Oh._

Percy feels Annabeth's hand find his zipper. He snaps her head to her - is she crazy? - and her eyes are daring him to make a sound, alert his mother of his presence.

The next seconds are like some sort of sexy horror movie - the sound of the zipper slowly, ever so slowly, coming down. The creaking of wooden stairs. Percy's head is lowered, his vision completely of Annabeth's breasts smashed against his chest.

Percy's ready to come, to let it all go like he always does with Annabeth, to scream and to shudder, and the anticipation is only making it worse.

What was wrong with him? How could he be turned on by this?

He was sick, sick and a _total_ closet pervert. He couldn't deny the evidence.

Then, a miracle. He hears his mother mutter under her breath, "Damnit, he must have gone outside. Percy!"

The sound of Sally's screams gets fainter and fainter, and then its gone and the front door shuts.

Annabeth looks up at him, he does the same. Her face is completely devoid of smirks or smugness, only a desperate want. Her plan had gone terribly array the moment she realized that maybe she might not finish the job. But this was their chance, now.

"We'll figure out something to tell her later," Annabeth whispers, searching for Percy's cock and brings it out. She guides him to her, and when he's inside, they both give a sigh of pleasurehappinessrelief.

Annabeth is slick and forever ready for his cock, and Percy thrusts and it seriously is the only thing in the world that matters, starving children be damned. The creaking is the soundtrack of Percy's rhythm - in and out and in and out and faster and harder yesyesyes.

Annabeth is biting his neck, raking his clothed back, but somehow that only makes it better. Percy rocks back and forth, feeling his jeans pool around him as he pounds Annabeth. He grazes his lips against Annabeth's earlobe, his huffs sending heat and chills down her.

At this point, Percy no longer cares about anything. Only Annabeth, only her skin and the feel he receives from each thrust, he doesn't even care if his mother finds them like this, crazed and sweaty and depraved.

. . .And then he feels it, a climax arriving. Percy closes his eyes, thrusting like a maniac now. He wants it so much, and Annabeth's legs are swinging and squeezing beside him and wiggling.

He'll do it, get down on his knees and worship this feeling like it's the only thing that'll _save_ him.

It comes, _he_ comes, and Percy groans into Annabeth's neck as he pulls away, letting his come shoot and create a mess between Annabeth's inner thighs and the lower end of the door. He turns in the crook of Annabeth's neck and sees her biting her lip to stifle her sounds of release.

They rest there for a moment, gasping for air, coming up from the surface of their orgasms.

"Percy?" Annabeth finally says.

"Yeah?"

". . .The ham _was_ quite dry."

Percy chuckles, letting Annabeth down. "Yeah, it kind of was."

* * *

Annabeth leaves through his window after they clean up the mess, and Percy was kind of hoping she'd stay somehow as he comes along with her to arrive at the front door.

"Oh, there you are!" Sally says as Percy opens the door. "What _happened_ to you two?"

Percy smiles. "Annabeth wasn't feeling well, so I drove her home. She says she's sorry she couldn't say goodbye."

"Ham," Sally mutters, shaking her head. "Well, I hope you told her she's welcome over here whenever she wants," Sally says, flipping through channels.

"I think she knows that, mom," Percy replies, letting his back ease against the door. "I think she knows she can do whatever she wants."


End file.
